Chapter 24

4 Years and Three Months Post Alien Apocalypse, or 0004 P.A.A.

Rescue

Ian woke to the sound of men arguing. His head was pounding, he wanted to vomit, and he was starving.

“We are not here to hurt Ian Anderson,” an unknown voice said.

“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already,” said a second voice.

“Try it,” said Crazy Steve.

“Easy, easy! That's enough, Levi,” said the first voice. “We didn't come here to threaten you guys. My name's Frank, and Captain Bradley sent us. We need Ian's help and it can't wait.”

Ian groaned and opened his eyes. He was in an unfamiliar bed in the corner of a large room. From the way the sun hit the dusty shutters on a broken window, he could tell the sun was setting. He sensed he'd been unconscious for just over a day. His nose had stopped bleeding, but his head was killing him, and his bones and skin itched from regen treatments. The usual.

Crazy Steve and Ted were both pointing guns at two people at the door Ian didn't recognize. One of the two wore Kityskin armor.

“When Ian overexerts himself, he needs a few days for his brain to shut down and reset,” Crazy Steve said. “We don't know why, he just does.”

“And Ian didn't do any of that stuff you've accused him of,” said Ted.

Ted had regrown his legs while Ian was unconscious.

“With good healing boosters, your legs grew back in what, two hours?” said Levi, the one in Kityskin armor. “It's been over a day. What could take Ian so long to recover from?”

Ian rolled out of bed and slowly got to his feet. “I have more than enough strength to kill you guys and the two men you've got outside watching this house. My head hurts like hell, so I'm not in the mood to take any shit.”

“We apologize for inconveniencing you, sir, but this is an emergency,” said Frank. He was older and wore the uniform of Captain Bradley's men. He pulled out a cell-phone, punched in a number, then walked over and placed the phone on the old wooden table sitting near the center of the room.

“Ian, is that you? This is Captain Bradley.” His voice came out on speaker-phone.

“What do you want?” Ian asked, sitting back down on his bed.

“Tomi was kidnapped, and we need your help to get her back. Obviously, I wouldn't come to you if I wasn't desperate.”

“Something kidnapped Tomi?” Crazy Steve asked. “I thought the monsters cleared out once we killed that shiny-ball thing.”

“This monster is a boy. A psychic, around Ian's age, named Clancy Woodrow. We thought he was a traveling musician and a good one. I've been speaking to his foster parents, and it seems he's responsible for the pregnancies Ian's been accused of. Clancy was also using his power to control his foster parents. They want him dead as much as I do.”

“You wouldn't let me into your shitty town, but you'll welcome this a-hole,” Ian said. “I get the pregnancy part, but why would Clancy kidnap Tomi and ditch his foster parents?”

“Because when he tried to sneak into my oldest granddaughter's bedroom last night, Ashley, my middle granddaughter, raised the alarm and tried to stop him. He fractured her skull in a fight. We think he panicked after that, grabbed Tomi, and with Tomi's help, he had no problem blasting through our checkpoints. Thanks to all the alien monsters Tomi killed yesterday, she has a lot of credits to spend on supplies and ammunition.”

“Not sure what you want from us,” Crazy Steve said. “Why hasn't one of your snipers taken Clancy out already?”

“Because Clancy gave us the slip,” Captain Bradley said, “and the longer this guy gets to run, the harder it's going to be for us to track him down, and the more time he has with... Please Ian I'm begging you, I'll give you whatever you want, just get Tomi back.”

“I'll do it, but you owe me big,” Ian said.

“You need more rest, Ian.” Crazy Steve pulled out a ten-pound sausage from his pack and slammed it on the old wooden table. In addition to a faint glow, the sausage had insect-like legs coming out of it that waved helplessly. “Who wants monster-sausage?” he asked. “I picked some up when we left town yesterday.”

“Please, I'm starving,” Levi said.

“I'll take some,” Ted said. “Best sausage in the world. They think some aliens got into the meat-grinder in the sausage plant, but if anything it's improved the taste.”

“I'd hate to see the world's worst sausage,” Ian said. He threw on some clothes and staggered over to the others, grabbing the table to keep himself upright.

“You are not up to this, Ian. You need more rest,” Crazy Steve said.

The monster sausage seemed to agree, letting out a high-pitched squeak as Crazy Steve chopped pieces off it with a meat cleaver.

“I'm fine,” Ian responded. He pulled an old chocolate bar from his pocket he'd been saving for such an emergency, took a bite, and then placed his map of the area on the table. “I can feel Clancy. He's here,” he pointed at a road. “He stopped for a few hours to let his Galactic Market Land Rover recharge and get some sleep. He's scared, heading in a southwest direction, trying to find a distant community with no psychics in it.”

“If he keeps going that way,” Frank said. “We should be able to cut him off at Pieville.” He pointed at a more distant location on the map. “We can get there in a few days.”

“That town had the best pies. Suppose they're still in business?” Ted asked, stuffing some still squeaking monster sausage into his mouth.

“Last I heard, aliens ate them all. It's a ghost town,” Frank said.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“I wish there was a faster way,” Captain Bradley said, studying the map through his phone's Monster-Vision app, “but I'm not seeing a choice. Let's get moving.”

“You see how the road he's driving on curves and loops around,” Ian said. “If we could fly over this mountain range here, we'd catch Clancy in two or three hours.”

“We have neither pilot nor plane that could do that,” Captain Bradley said, “and flying at night with a Galactic Market airplane is suicide at the best of times. Good thinking, though.”

“I used to be in the Air Force,” Crazy Steve said, though a mouthful of squeaking sausage. “But I wasn't much of a pilot. I mostly fixed stuff and... uh, I can't help you, sorry.”

“I have an idea,” Ian said, finishing his chocolate bar, tossing the wrapper to the side. “There's something I've wanted to try but haven't, because it's dangerous. You guys know where he is and the direction he's heading. You should hit the road and try to catch up to him. I'm going to fly over that mountain range and cut him off that way.”

“I told you guys he needed more rest,” Crazy Steve said. “Ian, you can't fly!”

That's what you think. “Don't worry, I'll be fine. Probably.” Ian left the house and reached out with his mind. He waved at the two men Captain Bradley had watching the house. He knew they were under strict orders to stay out of his way. They wouldn't cause any problems.

A pterodactyl-like flying thing swooped down. Amid startled shouts, it picked Ian up and flew away.

***

Puppeteering an alien-pterodactyl was easy compared to a dragon, but the last time he'd puppeteered a dragon, he'd been at full strength. At present, he was twenty percent at best.

Ian's head pounded as he forced the alien to carry him in the right direction. He suspected a drop from this height would be fatal, even with the regen shots, but there was no way he was going to leave an eleven-year-old girl with that creepy bastard if he could help it. Even an eleven-year-old as annoying as Tomi.

The setting sun fell below the horizon, and the evening turned into night.

The next few hours felt like an eternity as he fought psychically with the pterodactyl-like alien that wanted to kill and eat him. To make things worse, its claws dug deep into his shoulders, hurting like hell and causing his arms to go to sleep.

He felt the two of them getting closer to where Clancy and Tomi had stopped.

Tomi was in restraints and asleep. This meant the more dangerous of the two wouldn't be a problem. It also meant Clancy wasn't that confident in his ability to control his companion. That was a good sign.

Ian and the alien-pterodactyl approached Clancy's encampment. Flying closer to the ground, Ian was presented with another problem. The alien-pterodactyl needed a large flat space to land, and Ian wasn't sure he had enough control to manage a landing, even if such a space could be found.

Shots were fired, a bullet whizzed by Ian's head. Shit!

Clancy must have sensed Ian coming. Ian's exhausting fight with the alien-pterodactyl had caused him to drop his concealment. Fortunately for Ian, Clancy couldn't see him in the dark.

Well, here goes nothing, Ian ordered the pterodactyl to swoop down over the camp as low as possible, and drop him.

He tucked his arms and legs into a ball as he fell. He ordered the alien to attack Clancy, but Ian was too tired. His last mental command didn't take.

A crossbow bolt hit Ian in the same leg that had been bitten by the microwave shape-changer the day before. Ian bounced off the top of the Land Rover and slammed into a tree.

With an angry screech, the alien-pterodactyl flew up over Clancy and away as fast as it could.

Ow. Ian groaned, trying to stay conscious. That hurt.

If Ian had been at full strength, he'd have mind-killed Clancy by now, but he was anything but, and Clancy was desperate. It was all Ian could do to hold Clancy still.

“Please let me go!” Clancy pleaded. “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make those girls pregnant. I was lonely!”

“I get you using your gift to get laid,” Ian replied, “but putting the blame on me? That is not cool.” Ian sensed the intense thrill the other boy felt sneaking into girl's bedrooms. This boy's issues would not be resolved with polite discourse and counseling.

There was a screech of metal as Tomi tore free of her restraints and kicked open the passenger door to the Land Rover.

It seemed Ian crashing into the top of the Land Rover had awoken Tomi. She walked over to where Ian lay on the ground.

“Ian Anderson? Is that you? Again?”

“I'm afraid so,” Ian choked out. Everything hurt now, including breathing.

“You know, following people around is creepy, right?”

“Your Grandfather sent me to rescue you,” Ian responded.

“Well, this is the lamest rescue ever,” she said. “You suck at heroing.”

Ian wondered how many ribs he'd broken in the fall. He took another pain-filled breath. “If you don't mind,” (breath) “I'm trying to hold Clancy still,” (breath) “with my gift, so he doesn't kill me,” (another breath) “and take off with you again.”

“Oh. Why didn't you say so.” She picked up a small boulder and walked over to where Clancy was lying on the ground nearby.

“Please, please, I'm sorry!” Clancy said. “Let me go and I'll never bother you guys again!”

“I like to eat candy and kill aliens, and I'm out of candy,” she said.

“I'm not an alien!”

“Close enough.” Tomi brought the boulder down on Clancy with a sickening crunch.

There was silence.

Tomi returned to Ian.

“Lamest rescue ever.” Tomi looked down at him. She produced a psychic suppression helmet, put it over his head, then handcuffed his arms in front of him. “Grandpa is always saying, 'If you see Ian Anderson, you get the hell away from him, and tell my men.' You're supposed to be big and scary. The guy nobody messes with.” She picked him up, ignoring his moans, and put him in the back of the newly battered, damaged Land Rover. “You're really weak. You didn't land that hard. How many bones did you break?”

“Do you have to handcuff me?” Ian asked.

“I'm not stupid. Now where is Grandpa?”

“Could you pull the crossbow bolt from my leg?” Ian asked.

She reached over and yanked it out.

“Ow,! We don't count to three?”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I'll put it back in your leg and we'll try again,” she responded.

“That won't be necessary. Captain Bradley knows we're here. He's on his way.”

“Then we wait,” she said.

“I got to ask. How did you end up with so much heavy weaponry?” Ian tried to get comfortable, hard enough to do without being forced to wear handcuffs and a bulky helmet. His head was killing him, his nose was bleeding. He felt the intense itch of regen treatments moving his bones back together.

“When I was in the blue room, I told BG I wanted to be like Pudgly Diamond, Alien Killer,” she said. “As a girl, of course, guys are gross.”

Ian laughed. “That short fat guy who ate candy to regain health? I played that video game as a kid. He was so dumb. Because he couldn't read, he was always saying 'That sign says uh. uh. Sign says go right in!' whenever he saw a 'No Trespassing' warning sign. He was always fighting aliens, or humans. Then there was the part where he went into this building called 'The Candy Shop' and it turned out to be a brothel. That didn't go so well.”

“He's not dumb! Lots of people have trouble reading! Anyway, I was six, and Pudgly seemed like a good choice because he was always killing aliens, and people don't mess with him because when they do, he breaks their heads. When I woke up that morning, I was super strong, and BG had loaned me a rocket launcher and machine gun I didn't know what to do with. For the first few weeks, I'd bash the aliens with the rocket launcher.”

“But now you're the town champion. Pretty impressive.”

“Thanks to Grandpa,” she said. “When he found out I got good weaponry from BG that only worked for me, he had fake weapons made, so I could practice without wasting credits. Those galactic market rockets I use cost a thousand credits apiece. He also had me in the fighting pits, to get stat points and weapon upgrades.”

“You've gotten pretty good,” Ian said.

“I'm smart too. If someone calls me dumb, I hit them,” she said.

“That seems like the smart thing to do,” Ian agreed.

“I might have killed people last night. Clancy made me blast through checkpoints.” Tomi sounded like she was about to cry.

“Your grandfather didn't say anything, but even if you did, it wasn't you, it was Clancy, and he's dead,” Ian said.

“I watched myself from a distance, doing what he wanted.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Tomi.” Ian said. “I wish I could have gotten here sooner. Look, when I overexert myself like this, I pass out for a while. I think I'm about to do that now.”

“No prob,” Tomi said. “I'll keep watch.”